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Charles Dickens: The Uncommercial Traveller14. CHAPTER XIV--CHAMBERS (continued)With a candle in his hand, Mr. Testator went to the door, and found there, a very pale and very tall man; a man who stooped; a man with very high shoulders, a very narrow chest, and a very red nose; a shabby-genteel man. He was wrapped in a long thread-bare black coat, fastened up the front with more pins than buttons, and under his arm he squeezed an umbrella without a handle, as if he were playing bagpipes. He said, 'I ask your pardon, but can you tell me--' and stopped; his eyes resting on some object within the chambers. 'Can I tell you what?' asked Mr. Testator, noting his stoppage with quick alarm. 'I ask your pardon,' said the stranger, 'but--this is not the inquiry I was going to make--DO I see in there, any small article of property belonging to ME?' Mr. Testator was beginning to stammer that he was not aware--when the visitor slipped past him, into the chambers. There, in a goblin way which froze Mr. Testator to the marrow, he examined, first, the writing-table, and said, 'Mine;' then, the easy-chair, and said, 'Mine;' then, the bookcase, and said, 'Mine;' then, turned up a corner of the carpet, and said, 'Mine!' in a word, inspected every item of furniture from the cellar, in succession, and said, 'Mine!' Towards the end of this investigation, Mr. Testator perceived that he was sodden with liquor, and that the liquor was gin. He was not unsteady with gin, either in his speech or carriage; but he was stiff with gin in both particulars. Mr. Testator was in a dreadful state, for (according to his making out of the story) the possible consequences of what he had done in recklessness and hardihood, flashed upon him in their fulness for the first time. When they had stood gazing at one another for a little while, he tremulously began: 'Sir, I am conscious that the fullest explanation, compensation, and restitution, are your due. They shall be yours. Allow me to entreat that, without temper, without even natural irritation on your part, we may have a little--' 'Drop of something to drink,' interposed the stranger. 'I am agreeable.' This is page 142 of 354. [Marked] This title is on Your Bookshelf. Buy a copy of The Uncommercial Traveller at Amazon.com
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